Attacked!
by thebookworm90
Summary: The room was dark, unnaturally so for the time of day. It made for the perfect cover. Now to stalk the prey.
1. Attacked!

**Author's Note: It occurred to me I should mention that this story has no plot. It's really a bunch of individual moments between Harry, Hermione and their feline family members. I hope that these snippets bring a smile to your face or prompts a quite giggle out of you. **

**I don't own anything, I don't make any kind of profit from this.**

The room was dark. Unnaturally dark for eleven in the morning. Only the barest crack of light snuck through the crack in the curtains, but that was fine because that faint slice of light was aimed away from the bed. That suited him just fine.

Slowly, oh so slowly he crept forward. He was small, and while that was currently a plus he hoped desperately that he would grow much bigger as he got older. For now though, his small size coupled with his pitch black coloring would aid him in his hunt.

The man he was hunting was still locked in a deep sleep, turned on his side with another's slim arm wrapped around him from behind. The other's body would prevent him from turning away to protect himself. _Perfect._

Still at a painfully slow pace, the small being crept forward, avoiding contact with the man's body. He wasn't in position to attack yet. With the knees behind and the chest just ahead of him, the stomach would have made a tempting place to attack if the man was on his back. _Oh well._

He was tempted to just surge forward and attack; but while that would be satisfying, it would not get the exact results he wanted. _Finally_! He was level with the man's head. He raised one small black limb to the man's face and

_Pat…pat…patpatpat_

The man snuffled, bringing a hand up to swipe at his mouth and nose. From the corner of his eye; the slim arm slithered from around his prey's torso. Alright. It was time to bring the pain then. Raising his limb again he made sure that the claws were extended just enough, took careful aim at the man's lips and

_Whap…whap…WHAP!...whapwhapwhapwhapwhapwhapwhapwhapwhap!_

"ARRRGH!"

Sweet music to his ears! Lifting his paw again, he was thwarted from his second attack as two large hands clasped him around his middle and lifted him up with the man as he sat up right. The hands raised him so that he was face to face with his prey and staring into startling green eyes. Pulling his limbs and tucking his paws close to him, he extended his neck, licked the man's nose, and let out a soft trilling

"Meow?"


	2. He's a kitten

"I don't understand what you hoped to gain from attacking me in my sleep. It's my roof that shelters your ungrateful head. I feed you, despite your picky eating habits. I paid the outrageous vet bills of your first check up and will continue to do so, so that you live a long and healthy life. I've spent a small fortune on toys for you, and y-"

The kitten extended his neck a second time and licked Harry on the nose once, twice, three times and began to purr.

"You have the absolute gall to lick my nose and look adorable! What am I going to do with you?"

"You could accept the fact that he is still a baby and he will continue this behavior until he has grown out of it in a few months, like I already told you when you brought him home. Knowing your luck though, he may keep the habit of waking you in the mornings after he's matured into adulthood. After all he is a cat."

Harry turned to his bed partner incredulously. "But Hermione! He attacked me! He smacked me on the mouth with his claws! _Repeatedly!_"

Hermione turned and cracked an eye open to look up at Harry with a gimlet glare. "He is a _kitten,_ Harry. On top of the standard quirks a cat has, he is going to be rambunctious and he will practice stalking, pouncing, and attacking. He will use his toys as practice, but he will use you the most for practice since you move and make noise. This will go on for several months. Again, I told you all this when you first considered keeping him. And what was your argument? Oh yes, you said 'But look at him Hermione! He's so small and defenseless. Plus he's all black and they're known for their sweet temperaments. Besides, I'm sure Crookshanks will be a good role-model for him and teach him some kitty manners.'"

Harry looked sheepish as he laid back down on his back, bringing the kitten down to rest on his chest. He watched as the kitten hopped down from his chest and walked towards his head. The kitten settled down by his shoulder and began licking his hair while he continued to purr.

Hermione shifted so that she cuddled into his side and the kitten switched his attentions to her forehead. "Just be glad that the kitten stages and behaviors will only last until he's one or two. After that he'll be a mature adult cat and will have calmed down. Somewhat."

Harry closed his eyes and murmured, "So he's currently a little hellion wrapped in heart melting cuteness as a defensive measure. Great."

The kitten in question had been listening to the whole conversation and felt that that needed a response from him. So turning his head he eyed his human's face, took aim and struck.

"OW! Merlin's balls, he bit me!"

Hermione sighed and looked up at Harry as he rubbed at his cheek. "What did you expect to happen? For him to purr louder?" Harry glowered at the kitten and by close position, Hermione.

"You forgot that he was a full kneazle and could actually understand you again, didn't you?"

The glower became a pout. "Maybe."

"Then you better get used to it."


	3. Named

**Author's Note: I had originally planned on this being only two chapters, but I've decided to keep on with it after reading the visitor stats. Holy cow! I never imagined so many people would consider this good enough to read. So, thank you everyone who decided to give this a shot and read it.**

"So. Have you decided on a name for him yet?"

"…"

"Harry, you've had him for over a month now. If you don't pick a name for him soon and keep calling him 'you,' 'kitty,' and the other more unsavory names, he'll only respond to those."

"I just want to give him a name that fits him. Cats have personality, they should have a name that reflects that."

"Oh really, now?"

"Yes! Just look at Crookshanks. His name is unique, slightly intimidating and yet inspires a bit of trust. He himself is a unique cat that's a sweet tempered badass cat with a uncanny sixth sense of knowing if a person is trustworthy or not."

"In that case, you should just name the kitten Richard. It's a strong regal name, just as you think he looks like, and when you call him a dick, it'll still be appropriate."

"Hermione, no! Besides I was thinking more along the lines of…Snape."

Hermione burst into gales of laughter. "Harry you can't be serious!"

"Yes, I am. Look at him Hermione, he's all black, he does kind of look like a bat, he attacks _everything_ and his favorite sleeping spot is my old cauldron from Hogwarts."

"You just want a way to curse Snape's name without feeling guilty about cursing the man."

"No I don't!"

"That innocent look will not work on me. Okay, Mr. His-Name-Has-To-Be-A-Good-One, what do you think Headmaster Snape is going to do when one of Ron and Luna's brood start telling stories about _Harry Potter's_ cat named _Snape_? Or when we have our own children and they go to Hogwarts with so many stories about the cat named Snape? Kneazle cats have a longer life span then regular cats. The kitten is going to be a part of our family a good long while."

"….Alright, fine! Not Snape."

"Well, I still think Richa-"

"No! Not Richard either.

"Then I don't know what else to suggest to you, Harry. You've shot down every suggestion I've given you. Even if he is as batty as a belfry, he is your cat; just pick something already. "

"Hmmm….I think I'll na-"

_CRASH!_

Harry jumped as Hermione whirled around, searching for the source of the noise. Both watched as Crookshanks hurriedly jumped from the side table that was against the wall behind the couch they were both sitting on, to the shelf that had been installed in the corner of the room so that it was about a meter from the ceiling and covered in small plushy cushions. They watched as the kitten they were just speaking about finished scaling the side of the table only for Crookshanks to no longer be there. They watched as he looked around for the older cat and finally spotting him on the kitty-shelf, chirped. Crookshanks looked at the kitten, gave a growling meow then promptly dropped down on the cushions and closed his eyes.

"Awww, Crookshanks! Did the kitten interrupt your naptime with playtime again?" Harry and Hermione watched as the kitten crouched down with his eyes locked on the shelf. "Think he'll make it this time?" Harry whispered to Hermione. "I doubt it. Maybe in a month or three. Right now he's still quite small and clumsy." The kitten wriggled his bottom and leapt. He managed to clear half the distance before falling to the ground and landing on his feet with a small stumble. He gave a slight shake to his head as he sat down and began to wash a paw with an air of "_I meant to do that."_

"What a batty cat," Hermione muttered as she turned back around to face Harry, who had a contemplative look on his face. "You know, I think we should install another shelf and ward it for Crookshanks use only. Your cat won't give him any rest once he's big enough to jump onto that shelf with Crookshanks."

"Hmm, you might be right." Hermione watched as Harry stood up and walked behind the couch, bending down to pick up the picture frame Crookshanks had knocked over in his rush to get out of the kitten's reach. Pulling his wand from his arm holster, he muttered a quiet _Reparo_ and tapped the glass. "You know, I think I've thought of a name," he said as he set the frame back down on the table.

"And that name would be?"

Harry turned and bent again, scooping the cat up into the crook of his elbow and began to scratch the kitten's tummy. "I think I'll go with Bats." Harry lifted the kitten up into the air and rubbed the kitten's nose with his own. "Yes, I'll name you Bats since you are a batty kitty. Aren't you a batty kitty? Yes, you are."

Hermione stared at her husband in disbelief. "But you just said tha… No. You know what? He's your cat, name him whatever you want. I'm not going to quibble over this," Hermione said as she threw her hands up in exasperation. "I still think you should have gone with Richard," she muttered.

Harry glared at her half-heartedly before turning back to Bats. "You want someone to play with? I'll play with you. Let's go find one of your toys." Hermione watched as he carried his kitten out of the living room. Hermione called out, "You know, you're redefining the stereotype of the crazy cat lady, just so you know!" His response was a shouted, "Good!"


	4. New toy

_Crinkle._

_._

_._

_._

_._

_Crinkle._

_._

_._

_._

_._

_Crinklecrinkle._

_._

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_POP! Taptaptap._

_._

_._

_._

_._

_Crinklecrinklecrinklecrinklecrinkle._

Hermione peeked over the edge of her hardback book that she was currently curled up with on the living room couch and watched as Harry recapped a small plastic vial of some dried green herb, and begin to squish a mesh and cellophane ball of alternating silver and metallic baby blue. _Probably catnip,_ Hermione thought as she watched Harry inspect the mesh of the ball and nodded to himself; happy with the amount of catnip caught in the mesh. Harry pulled out his wand and muttered a spell that caused the ball to glow for a brief second. Settling back, Harry dropped the ball at his feet and holding his wand in a loose grip began waving it back and forth. Hermione watched as the ball began a slow, lazy path towards the center of the living room carpet. The ball's path was lackadaisical and vaguely reminded Hermione of a butterfly's flight pattern.

Giving a mental shrug, Hermione turned back to her book, thoroughly enjoying her choice for her light reading, Neil Gaiman's _Stardust_ and getting lost in that world for a little while longer. Or, that had been the plan before a quick movement from the smallest corner of her eye caught her attention. Turning her head, Hermione looked at the spot that she could have sworn had just had a flicker of movement. There was nothing there, just the shadows cast in the corner by the aralia her mother had gifted her and Neville had eyed every time he visited. Hermione narrowed her eyes and stared at the shadows. _Nothing. He must have been moving._ Hermione dismissed the incident and turned back to her book, managing to _just_ get into the flow of the story when she was disturbed yet again. This time by Harry.

"Target sighted."

Hermione looked up at the muttering, looking straight at Harry's face. His eyes were trained on the small gap between the entertainment center and the bookcase to the left of it across from the couch. Looking at the same spot as Harry, she saw what he was watching and… apparently narrating.

"Assuming position."

Harry's kitten, Bats, had just crouched down his eyes blown wide and trained on the mesh and cellophane ball, his head moving just the tiniest bit following the path of the ball.

"Commence butt wiggle…aaaaannnnnnd…..AAATTTAAACCKKK!"

As the ball rolled past the entertainment center, Bats burst into movement, running after the ball. With one quick jump he trapped the ball beneath him and immediately bit down, rolling to his side so that his back paws could kick at it, attempting to tear it apart with his back claws. Harry tightened his grip on his wand, gave one quick jerk that had the ball ripping itself from Bats' grasp, and began moving the ball in rapid, erratic movements that had Bats give chase instantly.

Hermione watched on in amusement as Harry moved the ball back and forth, in circles, figure eights, and bouncing it up and down just out of the kitten's reach. Bats only got close enough to just miss it, stumble and bolt off after his new toy as it shot off in a new direction. Harry continued to laugh and smile as he narrated Bats' chase.

"_Accio_ muggle camera," Hermione quietly whispered. Once her camera landed in her hand Hermione discreetly turned it on, switching the camera to video she angled it around her book to get a nice view of Harry and his bright and happy smile. After a full thirty seconds of recording Harry, Hermione turned the camera to follow Bats as he continued his chase for the ball all across the living room. This was going to make a wonderful story to share with their friends and great blackmail material in regards to certain individuals they knew.


	5. Harry's new pet

**A/N: To begin with, I would like to apologize to WarthogHerme. I know I said a week and that a week turned into almost three months. Unfortunately, aggravating events beyond my control usurped my free time set aside specifically for fanfiction as well as some other fun hobbies. **

**With that said, I have several ideas for chapters that need fleshing out and typing up. I will TRY to get them up before the New Year. **

**Thank you to everyone who decides to stop in and read this.**

~ ~ ~HP/HG~ ~ ~

Had anyone asked Ron Weasley what sort of pet Harry Potter would ever get; his immediate answer would have been "a dog." To Ron, Harry always struck him as a dog person, particularly the big dog variety, not the annoying little ankle biter yappers that most women preferred.

What Ron didn't know was that his best mate, Harry, had a deep, intense dislike for dogs that on some days bordered on loathing due to his Aunt Marge and her dogs, Ripper especially. For the past few years Harry had been making it a habit to try and not assume all dogs were vicious brutes bent on attacking him. He was mostly successful. There were even a few dogs that he tolerated and dare it be thought, liked. Ron, also did not know about the many cats of Arabella Figg that Harry would play and cuddle with when she watched him for the Dursleys. Nor did Ron know of the late nights at Hogwarts when the guilt and worry would be too much for Harry and he would either lay awake in his bed or in a squashy chair in front of the fire down in the common room, brooding. On those nights Harry's solace came in a squashed face bow-legged ball of fur. Crookshanks would either leave his Mistress's side or pause in his wanderings/hunting and join him. There was just something about a warm purring weight either beside you or in your lap that soothed Harry enough that he would be able to manage a few precious hours of sleep.

When Ron heard that Harry had found a new pet and that it was a solid black in coloring, images of a big black shaggy dog with a likeness to Snuffles had immediately filled his head and temporarily drowned out his wife as she finished describing the animal in question. Of that conversation Ron had gotten only two descriptors of Harry's new furry companion: one: it was a male, and two: it was still a baby.

Luna recognized the distant look in her husband's eyes and knew instantly that at some point, probably somewhere after "new pet" or "it's still a little baby" that he had stopped listening to her and had become swept up in some mental image or thought. She never minded when Ron stopped listening to her recount of her days events simply because he only checked out when it was something harmless and usually the results were quite humorous to her. "_Oh well, he'll find out on his own,_" Luna thought as Ron's eyes cleared and he rejoined the conversation (which luckily for Ron, had recently switched to Luna's plans to visit her father once he came back from some convention in a couple of weeks).

That night Ron had dreamt of his children playing with a wriggling black puppy as he and Harry watched on and chatted about which of the professional quidditch teams that might make it to the finals. It was a pleasing dream and sparked thoughts of having a dog of his own.


	6. It's a cat

**Author's Note: Hello everyone! I hope everyone had a happy holiday with whatever you celebrate and are planning a safe and fun New Year's. I just realized that I never mentioned this, but I am not British. I am but a humble American (believe it or not, we do exist) trying my best. If anyone has a suggestion on how I can edit the story so that it sounds more authentic to the characters, please let me know. Read and enjoy!**

Ron had originally wanted to visit Harry and his new dog the next day after practice when he had heard the news from Luna. Unfortunately, his visit was going to have to wait since his team captain suddenly decided to have a brain-wave and drag them to some sort of company retreat center named Tadfield Manor Conference and Management Training Center: Magical Section.

To add insult to injury, the captain had written his wife and every other teammate's significant other the previous day during practice asking them to secretly pack an over-night bag with several changes of clothes. The salt that was sprinkled into the wound was when he sent an owl early in the morning with a wrapped parcel and a letter claiming an emergency meeting needed to take place. As Ron began to unwrap the small package, Luna stood up, went into the hall and pulled out the overnight bag she had packed from the hall closet. She returned to the kitchen just as Ron picked up a small badge with his name neatly printed on the front hanging from a lanyard.

Counting back from twenty, Luna walked up to Ron, kissed his cheek, settled the bag's strap on his shoulder and said, "Good-bye Ron, have lots of fun and watch out for the nargles!" before stepping back with a serene smile on her face just as her mental countdown hit one. Ron disappeared from their kitchen with a small pop; sporting a confused look upon his face, in his sleep shirt and boxers with thick Chuddley Orange socks on. Recognizing the feeling of the hook-behind-the-navel, Ron had enough time to wonder what on earth was going on before he was unceremoniously deposited upon the floor of what appeared to be a reception area.

Still confused as to what was going on, hungry since the owl had arrived just as he was sitting down to breakfast, and his face slowly heating in embarrassment as he realized that he had just been kidnapped to somewhere in his sleep clothes. It was with the arrival of the rest of his teammates, heralded by small pops and their looks of equal confusion that Ron felt his cheeks cool slightly as he took in their various states of dress. He also learned two new things about his teammates. Harrison was an early riser who apparently liked to do some gardening in the morning if the dirt and grass stained clothes with flower petals in his hair were anything to go by. It was with the arrival of Dover that Ron and his teammates learned that he really did prefer to sleep in the buff, to their collective horror.

For the following two weeks Ron and his teammates were subjected to all kinds of tortures that were popular amongst muggles as "_teamwork and trust building exercises_." Personally Ron thought his father would pass out from the excitement of such a place and that his coach had taken a few too many stray bludgers to the head. At the end of the two weeks he had developed the very firm opinion that muggles were insane and that Voldedork was incredibly stupid for even thinking he could take them on and win. The bruises he had from that game, "painting ball" or "balling paint" something were unbelievable, even with the protective gear he had worn. And that was a game! Ron shuddered to think of what they would do for protective means.

After the two weeks of "_fun"_ were over, Ron spent a week in bed moaning to his beautiful wife Luna about his various torturers and subsequent aches, while she smiled and applied Bruise Paste to him.

The first Saturday after his two weeks at Life's Attempt at Hell on Earth, Ron woke to an empty house and a note from Luna stating the she and their daughter were visiting her father for the day. Ron found himself alone for the day with several possibilities for entertainment. The plan for the day was decided with the arrival of Harry's note; delivered via Floo inviting him over to hang out and watch the football game that afternoon.

Ron found it fortunate that the invitation came while his princess was out with her mother. He would be able to meet the puppy and judge his temperament to decide if he could introduce Celeste to the puppy now or to wait until the puppy was older and calmer. Well… hopefully calmer; some individuals were just hyperactive no matter what.

After a quick clean up of his breakfast and a shower, Ron left for Harry and Hermione's, appariting into the copse of trees planted in the backyard for Wizarding visitors. Making his way up to the backdoor, Ron rapped loudly on the door and wondered how accurate his mental picture of Harry's dog was to the actual pooch. "Ron, the door's open, come on in!" Shrugging his shoulders, Ron walked in shouting, "Alright, mate? I had planned on visiting sooner to see the new pet but my captain decided to try a new team-bonding method. So where's the… new…pup..py?"

Harry walked into the kitchen with a feathered topped stick in one hand and a small bundle of black fur cradled in the crook of his other arm. Ron blinked and stared at the creature.

Where there was supposed to be medium length shaggy black fur, there was short, shiny and sleek black fur.

There were dainty paws hiding claws in the place of oversized paws with exposed, short claws.

Instead of floppy ears, there were short triangular ears that swiveled to face him before swiveling away into different directions.

The last difference that shattered his lovely mental image were the eyes. Where soulful puppy dog eyes should have been, slitted analyzing eyes that belonged to only one evil creature stared back at him.

"Harry. What are you holding?"

Harry quickly looked down at his precious kitten before looking back up to his friend, answering "It's a cat, Ron."

**Author's Note 2: Brownie points to anyone who recognizes the training center.**


	7. The Argument

**Author's Note: Please, **_**please**_** have a safe New Year's everyone. Read and enjoy.**

It is unclear if Ron Weasley was out of the country at just the right time or not. This disagreement amused Harry and Hermione for many years as they both argued the reasons why. Hermione believed that Ron had missed his chance at seeing Harry's familiar Bats at such a young, needy stage of kitten-hood, which would have probably helped heal over his old hurt and animosity with felines from their third year at Hogwarts. Harry was convinced that he had lucked out with Ron being away for the first two months he had had Bats.

Sure he had missed his best mate and had attended what games he could with his own work schedule. However, Harry did _not_ want to have to worry about always frisking his friend for stowed away balls of fluffy cuteness before he left for his own home. The kitten was his, damnit, and Harry just did not want to get into a contest of wills with his friend over his familiar.

This argument was done again and again over the years between Harry and Hermione and as the years went by some of the reasons they came up with to support their side or debunk the other's became so outlandish that they would end the argument in tears of laughter. They were even known to drag their friends into The Argument (as it had become known) and were more often than not successful at getting their friends to take, switch, oppose, and switch sides again in The Argument multiple times over the years.

Sometimes even Ron would participate with them for a short while as he worked on manipulating a new victim-er…_friend_ into playing chess with him.

Even though The Argument went on for years with neither side gaining ground, this suited Harry and Hermione just fine and no one dared to question it.


	8. Why isn't he fixed?

**Author's Note: I really must thank my fiancé for being my beta. He hates fanfiction and non-canon fanfiction even more, and yet still checks my grammar for me. Thanks also to the people who decide that this fanfiction is good enough for a look see and read. I hope this made you smile today.**

"Harry Potter!"

Harry had been making himself a sandwich for a late lunch when his wife's voice rang out from their shared office to every room in the house. Harry had enough time to feel a slight chill slip down his spine before he saw his wife in the kitchen doorway. "Uh… Hi Hermione, would you like a sandwich too?" Harry asked, gesturing to the supplies laid out on the table and his partially built sub.

"In a minute Harry, but first you can answer a question for me. I was filing the paperwork on my desk and was checking through Bats' vet file to see which vaccinations he would need boosters for next month, when I noticed a certain procedure missing from the list of services rendered. "

_Uh-oh_. The thought raced through Harry's mind as Hermione asked the question he had _hoped_ she would instantly forget about. "Harry, why didn't you have Bats neutered?" To buy himself some time while he gathered his thoughts and attempted to come up with at least one plausible reason, he finished building his sandwich and started building one for Hermione just as she liked it. Hermione waited patiently for him get his excuse(s) together. Neither were aware of the orange mound of fur curled up beneath the kitchen table or of the triangular ears perking up in interest.

"Well, I didn't want to take away his chance at fatherhood. His is a full kneazle, what if we decide to breed him?" That was it. Those were the words that left his mouth in defense of letting Bats keep his manhood. _Fatherhood_. That was the reason his brain came up with. After mentally smacking his brain several times, Harry shivered and braced himself for the holes Hermione was going to poke in his reason. _Let the slaughter begin._

"So what happens when he starts spraying to mark his territory? Are you going to clean that up? What if he starts to attack Crookshanks? Bats could become aggressive when he matures and attack Crooks in a bid to be top cat of the household. Crooks isn't as young as he used to be; Bats could end up doing some serious damage. Besides, his chances of developing certain diseases and cancers are much higher than if he was fixed."

These holes were small and manageable. Maybe he could save his excuse. "Diseases? Cancers? He's a kneazle. Besi-" to bad he didn't get a chance to finish his defense.

"He being a kneazle does not stop him from being a cat. He's a magical cat with a higher intelligence, stronger senses, and a longer life expectancy. But he is still susceptible to feline ailments. Furthermore, do you really want to breed him? That would mean we would either have to find someone with a female kneazle who wants to breed her and work out the details for that or adopt a female ourselves and wait for her to go into heat. And let me tell you now, I am _not_ cleaning up after a female kneazle in heat, that one would be all you. In either situation, Bats isn't going to have a whole lot to do with actual breeding after he's made a deposit into the mother. If we had the kittens here, he probably wouldn't even pay them much attention except to sniff them a little every once in a while until they were about six weeks old and could start exploring and investigating him."

As he listened to her tear apart his argument after poking the small holes, Harry finished Hermione's sub and put away the sandwich supplies. Sliding her sub over to an empty seat at the table, Harry sat down and took a bite of his sub. Sitting down, Hermione watched Harry as he took a few bites of his sandwich. "Harry, what's the real reason you didn't have him fixed?" Harry looked down and began to employ another stalling tactic by chewing much slower than normal since she _hated it_ when someone spoke with their mouth full.

Hermione watched as Harry tried to stall. She did have a hunch as to why Harry neglected to have Bats fixed. It was after Harry took his fourth bite and continued to chew slowly. Time to see if she was right. "You didn't want to get him fixed because you didn't want to be the one to take his balls from him. You didn't want to pick him up from the vet and see accusing eyes glaring at you, did you?" Harry stared at his wife in surprise; paused in mid-chew as the thought, _why do I bother trying to hide things from her,_ ran through his mind?

"Maaaaaybeeee."

Hermione sighed and took a bite of her sandwich, making sure to chew and swallow her bite before speaking. "Would you like me to get him fixed for you? That way he can glare at me and you can coddle him." Orange ears twitched.

Harry looked at her with puppy dog eyes and in a pathetic sounding voice asked, "Would you? Please?"

Smiling at her cat-crazed husband Hermione nodded. "Sure Sweetie, I'll call the vet's office on Monday and schedule his operation. And thank you for the sandwich, you made it perfectly."

Neither of them saw as Crookshanks, ears twitching and tail-tip flicking, walked out from beneath the table and out of the kitchen door.

**Author's Note 2: Writers don't forget to thank your beta(s), both the willing and the unwilling.**


End file.
